


V ficlets

by kaitlia777



Category: V (2009)
Genre: F/M, Ficlets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:01:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 14,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24915805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitlia777/pseuds/kaitlia777
Summary: A selection of V ficlets that were posted on my ff.net origionally
Relationships: Erica Evans/Jack Landry, Joshua (V)/Lisa (V)
Kudos: 1





	1. Stars and Angels Gave the Sign

It had been a busy day. Not that it was unusual for Christmas Eve to be packed with activity, this year Erica had fully intended to spend the day (and Christmas itself) curled up on the couch, wearing her comfiest PJ's, watching sappy movies and crying into a tub of Ben & Jerry's.

Hey, it was a perfectly valid choice considering her son had chosen to spend the holiday on the mothership with Anna and Lisa. He didn't even seem to think this was an odd choice, though Lisa had seemed abashed for him.

She was just settling in to watch The Scarlet and The Black, an old movie from the 80's starring Gregory Peck as Monsignor Hugh O'Flaherty, when there was a knock on her door. With a sigh, Erica kicked her legs free of the fleece blanket and rose, shuffling toward the door.

Peeking through the peep hole, she blinked, wondering what Jack was doing, standing on her doorstep, snowflakes clinging to his hair and the shoulders of his black, wool coat.

"Jack," she said, swinging open the door and waving him in. "Hi. Thought you'd be busy today."

He smiled, stepping into the foyer. "I am…which is why I'm here. I was wondering if you could give me a hand with something."

That was how she wound up spending the day delivering meals with Jack and a group of volunteers from the Society of St. Vincent de Paul. Then there was dinner, serving at a soup kitchen and finally midnight mass.

Lord our God, with the birth of your Son, your glory breaks on the world. Through the night hours of the darkened earth, we your people watch for the coming of your promised Son. As we wait, give us a foretaste of the joy that you will grant us when the fullness of his glory has filled the earth, who lives and reigns with you for ever and ever. Amen.

She'd sat amongst the faithful at St. Josephine's, watching Jack stand before the church, saying mass. The candles everyone held were beautiful, filling the space with flickering, almost ethereal light. The ritual of it all was comforting, even if it wasn't one she generally took part in.

Erica was fully aware of what Jack had done. He'd kept her busy all day so she wouldn't sit at home, alone and missing her son. It was just that sort of action that made her love him all the more.

Yeah, yeah, she could admit it to herself. She loved Jack. She'd fallen for a priest. Because their lives needed to be that much more complicated.

HAIL, and blessed be the hour and moment At which the Son of God was born Of a most pure Virgin At a stable at midnight in Bethlehem In the piercing cold At that hour vouchsafe, I beseech Thee, To hear my prayers and grant my desires. Through JesusChrist and His most Blessed Mother.

Okay, so maybe the feelings were mutual. Jack had looked her way when speaking that particular prayer, a faint blush staining his cheeks.

She felt a matching flush on her own face and, once the mass had ended, she was glad for the chilly night air. After changing out of his vestments and into civilian clothes, Jack joined her, tipping his face up into the falling snow. Between the hour and the weather, the streets were quiet (well, quiet for New York City) and she turned to him. "You working tomorrow?"

"No, Father Travis is saying morning mass," he replied easily, smiling and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

It only seemed right to ask him to have a coffee with her…then she remembered everything was closed as it was 1:30am on Christmas Day.

Which was how they wound up back at her house, sitting on the couch in front of a roaring fire. With him there, it was a lot less depressing than it had been earlier in the day. They'd opted for wine in lieu of the coffee and were feeling pleasantly warm and sleepy.

Erica could feel the heat of Jack's body against her side and allowed herself to lean a bit closer, folding her legs up beneath herself. He seemed to have no objection, the arm he had draped along the back of the couch dropping to wrap around her shoulders.

She couldn't help the way her breath caught and she turned to look at him. His eyes looked very blue at such close range and he smiled softly. For a moment, she almost allowed herself to forget he was a priest. It would be so easy to lean a bit closer, to mold her lips to his, but she couldn't.

Instead she sighed, allowing her chin to fall forward, resting her cheek against his chest. Jack pressed a kiss to her brow and gathered her close. She fisted her hands in the fabric of his sweater and held him just as tight, not wanting to let go but knowing she should.

They fell asleep holding each other and, when she awoke hours later, she found they'd shifted to stretch out on the sofa, lying face to face. Jack's long legs were bent, tangled with hers quite intimately and one of his hands was resting on her butt, the other splayed between her shoulder blades. Her own hands held him, one lying flat against his chest, while the other had wormed its way up the back of his sweater, resting on the long, smooth muscles of his back.

Again, not how she'd planned on starting Christmas Day, but this was way better than ice cream.


	2. Give In To Me

~ My heart is set on you/ I don't want no one else/ And if you don't want me/ I guess I'll be all by myself/ Come on, come on/ Into my arms/Come on, come on/ Give into me

She had a plan.

A good plan.

One she'd put time and effort into crafting. Spending most of their waking hours in Project Aires underground bunker did not make it easy.

After all, despite their unspoken connection (and the fact that he'd been able to throw off Anna's bliss at her pleas), Jack had spent the better part of the past two decades devoted to his calling as a Catholic priest. Though he'd been defrocked, she couldn't expect him to be the one to initiate anything further than hugs or loaded, lingering touches between them.

So it came as a surprise when, after spending an evening in her quarters discussing how they were going to track down and punish whoever thought it would be funny to give Syd access to the military version of caffeine pills, Jack leaned into her personal space and pressed a hesitant kiss to her lips. For a moment, she froze before returning the attention and wrapping an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer.

Plans…never seemed to work out well for them, Erica had long since learned to adapt and, for once, this was a pleasant surprise that she felt no inclination to fight.


	3. Just A Kiss

~ No I don't want to mess this thing up/ I don't want to push too far/ Just a shot in the dark that you just might/ Be the one I've been waiting for my whole life/ So baby I'm alright, with just a kiss goodnight

Re-establishing relations with human kind hadn't been easy after Anna's deception, but Lisa knew it was well worth the effort. The very public video that showed Joshua and herself standing with members of Project Aires during the final battle that had ended Anna's reign went a long way toward that goodwill, but she understood their reticence.

Lisa found herself spending endless hours in discussions with understandably unhappy heads of state, assuring them that she was not going to be Blissing anyone. Joshua spent most of his time helping organize efforts to get medical aid out to all those who had been affected by the casual cruelty of Anna's rule. Jack was helping him while Erica tried to guide Lisa through the treacherous waters of human politics.

The months passed swiftly and things finally began to settle down. Meetings finished for the day, Lisa sat in one of the observation lounges, looking out at the moon.

A quiet whoosh announced Joshua's arrival. He was the only one who tended to seek her out, as most other V's were still reeling from lack of Bliss and new found free will.

Joshua though was her constant.

She turned to look at him as he sat, noting that his hair had grown slightly and curled a bit at the nape of his neck. Her fingers twitched with the increasingly familiar urge to touch him and she sighed.

"Lisa? What's wrong?"

At her request, he addressed her by her name. She needed to have at least one of her people who did so and there was no one she trusted more. He was peering at her, eyes soft and concerned for her well being….

Before she could talk herself out of it, Lisa leaned toward him, one hand coming up to touch the back of his neck while the other gripped the front of his shirt. When her lips touched his, Joshua went still for a moment before tentatively returning the kiss.

It was simple and sweet, soft and perfect and, when Lisa finally pulled back, she searched Joshua's face. He looked slightly dazed and his cheeks were flushed and, to her relief, he smiled at her and initiated the next kiss himself.


	4. Happiness

The fight had been a long one, but eventually humanity and their allies within the V race prevailed.

Lisa took command of the fleet, ordering the majority of ships to withdraw and tasking those that remained to aid in repairing the damage they had inflicted upon Earth. The planet's leaders were understandably nervous of her motives, but she had the tentative support from Lars Tremont, leader of Project Aires, so that was something.

After yet another meeting at the UN, Lisa exited the conference room, still speaking softly with the ambassador from the UK. Then she heard a voice call her name.

"Joshua!" she replied, whirling to see the doctor approaching her. He'd been on Earth assisting the 5th Column for months and she had missed him dearly. He was approaching from down a long corridor, separating himself from Erica and Jack, who had clearly brought him here.

For once ignoring the ever present crowds, the photographers and politicians, Lisa threw caution to the wind and flung her arms around him, laughing as he lifted her off of her feet.

"It's good to see you," he breathed into her hair as she smiled against his shoulder.

Looking up, she saw a familiar sparkle in his brown eyes and something in her just…snapped.

When she pressed her lips to his, she was unaware of the camera flashes around them, of the surprise on the ambassador's face, of Erica and Jack's smiles. She didn't know the pictures that soon flooded the internet would go a long way toward ingratiating them into the hearts of humans.

For one brief moment, the worries faded and all she knew was happiness.


	5. Not Exactly Sleeping Beauty

No one was moving, just standing there, open mouthed, gaping up at the mother ship.

Held in Anna's thrall.

Clutching Jack around the shoulders, Erica shook him and called his name. He failed to respond and her sense of hopelessness grew. Jack was her most steadfast ally, her friend, her partner and…well, they both knew there was something more between them, something they both tried to ignore given his former avocation.

It wasn't exactly advisable to have feelings for a priest, especially when you were sure the feelings were mutual.

Feelings.

Ryan's love for Val had allowed him to turn his back on Anna's bliss and other members embraced their emotions as they rebel.

Perhaps…oh, what the hell, what did she have to lose.

"Jack, don't leave. I need you," she said as she stepped around to stand in front of him. Pressed flush to his torso, Erica raised her hands and grasped the sides of his face, pulling him down and delivering a hard kiss. It was no gentle, waking Sleeping Beauty type kiss, instead it was filled with fear and desperation and no small amount of longing.

For several beats, Jack's mouth remained slack against her own, but little by little, she felt his lips twitch and she nearly cried out with relief when he beagn returning the attention in earnest, his own hands finding purchase on her hips.

When she finally pulled back, he blinked at her, a small, confused smile on his face. "Hi," he said softly. "What…just happened?"

There was no easy way to explain the current state of things, but she knew they'd figure it out.

Together.


	6. Solace

The early morning light streaming in through the windows lent to Erica's skin a warm glow. After days of stress, running on caffeine and anger, she'd cried herself to sleep in his arms.

Jack wished there was something more he could say or do that would ease her pain over Tyler's death, but some things are beyond comfort. So he just tried to be there for her, to hold her as she cried and see that the little, day-to-day things, like meals, were taken care of.

It seemed even the rare peace she found in exhausted slumber was not exempt from her demons. A small crease had formed between her eyes and she was shifting, muttering unintelligibly to herself.

"Shhhh," Jack murmured, stroking her hair and gathering her close. He usually woke up with her pressed into his side, seeking warmth and he hoped it would help her slip back into a dreamless sleep.

Unthinking, he allowed his lips to fall against the smooth skin of her brow, a chaste contact designed to soothe, to let her know she wasn't alone.

She stilled and he felt the soft flutter of her breath against his neck before she borrowed into the crook of his shoulder.

They had to be up soon enough, but he thought they could linger for a moment longer, before reality crashed back down upon them.


	7. Iris

_And I don't want the world to see me,_

_Cause I don't think that they'd understand_

_Cuz everything's made to be broken,_

_I just want you to know who I am._

* * *

She was the hope of their people. Their chance to be more, to be better. Even thrown in a cell, forced to watch as her mother led their people further into darkness, Lisa shone like a star.

A fragile, beautiful star.

More than anything, Joshua wished he had the luxury to enfold her in his arms, to assure her that they would make things right. Unfortunately, he could make no such promises.

All he could do was bring her news of events Anna didn't want her to know about, of plans the Fifth Column were developing.

Eventually, he knew they'd find a way to free her. It would be dangerous and he was willing to give his life for her. Aloud, he would say it was for the cause and, for the longest time, that would have been true. Somewhere along the way though, Lisa had become important to him as a person and not just as what she represented.

He didn't have enough experience to truly identify the emotions he was feeling, but whatever they were, he was glad for them.

He was her hope, her touchstone, her contact with the world outside her cell. Again and again, he risked himself for her, saving her sanity as he had her life. Joshua was the one bit of light in an otherwise cheerless day.

Every time he arrived, she had to fight the impulse to run to him, take comfort in his warmth. She felt almost foolishly glad, on the occasions after her mother's visits, when he'd touch her skin, gently tending to the signs of mother's rage.

His hands were warm and dry in the constant damp chill of the swampy cell.

During their brief meetings, he'd tell her what he could about the resistance, assure her that the fight was still on, despite the fact that majority of people on Earth had been blissed. It would be easy to fall into despair, to give up in the face of such adversity, but she would not.

She would remain strong. Strong for her people. Strong for Tyler, dead at the jaws of her doppelganger. Strong for the humans caught up in Mother's dangerous games.

Strong for Joshua, who looked at her with unfathomable eyes, who had seen strength in her before she knew it needed to exist.

When the time came to act, she would not hesitate again.

For now, she took comfort in Joshua's gentle words and soft hands and told herself it was enough.

It wasn't, but it was all they had.


	8. Brass Bed

_So why don't you stay with me?_

_Share all your secrets tonight_

_We can make believe the morning sun never will rise_

_Come and lay your head on this big brass bed_

_And we'll be alright as long as you stay with me, yeah yeah_

* * *

It was amazing how much life had changed in such a short amount of time. Less than six months ago, the idea of aliens arriving would have seemed preposterous. Her job had revolved around chasing human terrorists. Her son was a typical teenager and her relationship with her ex was strained but improving.

Then the V's arrived and her world changed. She was part of a resistance movement, one her superior at the FBI was a part of and so she didn't even have to feign normal work. Her ex-husband died and, in her grief and anger, she had unknowingly bedded the man responsible. The final blow was her sons death. Joshua, the young V doctor whom had brought her the news, had been vague as to how he died and she hadn't even had the strength to pry.

A chill had run through her veins that night and she hadn't been warm since.

Fighting Anna was the focus of her waking hours and also many hours when she should have been asleep. When rest eluded her, she took to wandering her house, working on strategy or just stewing in her thoughts. Sometimes, she'd peer into the guest room where Jack was staying. He always left the door open a crack, in case she wanted to talk and, on some nights, she did.

Other nights, when she looked in and found him sleeping, she'd just watch him for a while.

Okay, maybe a little creepy, but it was soothing and it took her mind off of other, less pleasant things for a while.

Tonight it looked like he'd fallen asleep while reading, Bible still open on the bed by his side. The bedside lamp reflected off of his hair and made his skin look a deeper tan than it was. For a moment, she let her eyes trace the line of his body, golden hair to broad shoulders to slim waist…He looked like an oasis of calm on a night when the weather matcher her mood, cold rain pounding on the window.

She shook herself and wondered how it was fair that she had done things she wasn't proud of, had compromised her moral code more than once, and yet it was Jack whom had been dismissed from his job. Fallen in name but not in virtue, Jack held tight to his faith, even in the face of Anna's bliss.

An undeclared war had already claimed so many victims, altered so many lives irrevocably. Erica knew she'd never be the same, even if she survived the coming fight. Somehow, she doubted that would be the case….

"Erica?"

Jack had woken up as she stood in his doorway, lost in thought. He was blinking sleepily as he closed his Bible, setting it on the bedside table. "Can't sleep?" he asked her, not seeming bothered by her presence.

Shaking her head, she simply relaxed against the doorframe. "Third night this week," she murmured. Even though the weight of leadership had been removed from her shoulder by the involvement of Project Aires, she really didn't like to show them any vulnerability.

Hell, she wasn't fond of being vulnerable in general, but somehow it was all right around Jack.

Still lying on his bed, Jack extended a hand to her and, hesitantly, she stepped forward to take it. He scooted back on the bed, tugging her forward until she was seated beside him. "Lay down," he said softly, hands moving to apply gentle pressure, encouraging her into a supine position. "You can't keep going like this. Mistakes get made when people get over tired."

"I know," she agreed as he flipped a pillow and she laid her head on the cool pillowcase. The blanket pooled at his hips was flipped over her legs and she felt the warmth of his body behind her. Reflexively she relaxed back into him and almost sighed as the heat of his bare chest seeped through her shirt.

He reached over her and extinguished the lamp, then pulled the blankets up higher and let his arm wrap around her body. She grasped his hand tightly, pulling it against her chest, anchoring him to her.

She was surrounded by the aroma of old books, warm leather and peppermint, all mixed together over the natural scent of Jack's skin. It was a comforting smell, made more so by his presence, solid and real behind her.

Though she knew it wouldn't last, she reveled in the peace, the comfort he offered and closed her eyes.


	9. A Different Path

Sometimes, Jack wondered what his life would have been like had he chosen a different path. For a time, a long time, during college, he considered the priesthood. He'd been raised in the church and, despite being witness to any number of things that could be considered evil, he still held his faith close to his heart.

After college, he'd spent a few years in the army and had been trained as a medic. As a civilian, he'd become an EMT and later a paramedic in New York City. It was hard, sometimes consuming work, but he loved it. All the chaos and adrenaline and sometimes the danger.

It was life.

He re-upped after 9/11 and served two tours in Iraq as a 68W E-8 (in layman's terms, a combat medic with the rank of Master Sergeant). Even the streets in Bed-Stuy seemed quiet after 6 years of that.

Readjusting to civilian life was a bit of a challenge, but he was managing. Things were settling down…and then the V's arrived.

Now, Jack didn't kid himself to think that he had a particularly tactical mind, but he thought the human race, as a whole, should taken a bit more time to consider the aliens before deciding to embrace them with open arms. Nearly ever Hollywood movie depicting the arrival of aliens, in present times, on Earth turned out badly for humans.

Even the church jumped on the bandwagon, and Father Travis, the priest at Jack's parish, was a huge fan of the V's.

And the whole V thing bothered Jack. What was the name of their race? Surely they weren't simply called Visitors on their own world.

Still, if anyone shared his doubts, they were keeping quiet about them…save for the occasional crazy person.

But were they crazy, or were they seeing something everyone else refused to see.

Earlier that day, everything changed.

A routine call out. A guy bleeding out from a knife wound to the abdomen. Almost as soon as he saw the guy, Jack knew he wasn't going to make it to the hospital, but not for lack of trying. He and his partner loaded the injured man into their rig and sped off siren blaring.

In the back, Jack fought to keep the man alive as he fought and raved.

"No one thinks," the man gasped. "I know why they're here. They're going to obliterate us!"

Making an educated guess, Jack asked, "The V's?"

Something like hope flared in the man's eyes, even as his vitals took a nosedive. "Yes! I'm not the only one," he rallied his strength and pulled an envelope from his pocket, pressing it on Jack. "Take this, go to the address and give it to the people there. All the information's inside. Promise me!"

He seemed so desperate that Jack found himself nodding and agreeing. "Okay," he said, accepting the envelope.

"Please," the man had said, fading fast. "It's important."

Jack didn't know exactly what to make of that, but he chose to honor the mans dying wish and found himself in a warehouse, surrounded by a group of people, most of whom seemed no more sure of themselves than he was.

Then everything seemed to happen so fast. They found out that the V's were definitely not what they seemed, and all bore a new scar behind the ear to prove their own, Earth based birth. The envelope turned out to hold pictures of V's that were operating like a sleeper cell on Earth. Everyone seemed to be on the same page, realizing they were now going to have a fight for Humanity on their hands.

Or they would have, had the V's not arrived to slaughter nearly everyone.

After escaping the carnage, Jack sat beside a blond woman, Erica, and he took her hand as she said what they were both thinking.

This was a war. It was time to fight.


	10. Stories of crime and passion, punishment and regret

It started innocently enough. Hobbes had received a nasty gash on his side, courtesy of a V agent, and upon returning to HQ, Joshua, now on Earth keeping clear of Anna, who was not at all happy with him, went to work repairing the damage. The mercenary removed his shirt, allowing Joshua to work and, while cleaning the wound, the doctor asked, "Why do humans mark their skin in such a way?"

He was speaking about the fiery sword tattoo inked on Hobbes's left shoulder. The mercenary smirked a little and said, "Not a fan of the ink?"

"I simply don' understand the human fascination with intentionally inflicting pain upon themselves. Tattoos, piercing, brandings…Why?"

Erica smothered a smile at the clear confusion on the V doctor's face and it was Jack that said, "People get tattoos for lots of reasons. Some just like the look of them, others use them to mark an important event or person in their life. Still others feel strongly enough about something that they want to have a visible reminder to carry with them forever."

Joshua nodded. "May I ask what prompted yours?" he asked Hobbes politely and the mercenary grinned.

"Got drunk off my ass and woke up with it."

Heaving a sigh, Jack said, "Yeah, that happens too. Unlike most of my friends, I wasn't actively drunk or hung over when I sat for mine."

Hold up.

Did Father Jack just admit to having ink? Yes, he did….

Damn it! Like she needed another reason to picture him with his clothes off…oh God….

Taut skin with a light, natural tan felt wonderful under her fingers. The small spray of golden hair at the center of his chest tickled her nose as she pressed a kiss over his heart. He pulled her close, strong hands on her hips lifting her, so she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, nails trailing down the intricate cross inked between his shoulder blades….

Erica awake with a jerk and let out a soft curse. Every night since Jack had off-handedly mentioned having a tattoo, her sleeping sub-conscious had come up with images, in Technicolor, of what it might be. Her sub-conscious was also quite fond of putting her in sexy, compromising positions with Jack while discovering his body art.

Not that she minded, but it was a tiny bit embarrassing. The day before, Jack had innocently touched her back and she'd flushed, remembering the previous nights…musings. Hobbes had given her a look but had been smart enough to hold his tongue when she glared. Jack had asked if she was okay and Joshua had heaved a sigh, clearly thinking they were all nuts.

And maybe these nightly, erotic dreams were driving her a little crazy. Not that she had never entertained less than prurient thoughts about Jack before, but she couldn't help that she had a thing for good boys with ink. It was just…something surprising and hot.

Her only choice, she decided, was to ask. If she knew, then maybe her brain would stop trying to conjure up images and inserting the thoughts of tight skin, bearing a he'd sat for willingly. Sometimes, she saw a cross, a passage from the bible…once, oddly, she'd seen a simple, inked star on a shoulder blade….

Taking a breath, she sat up and climbed out of bed, heading off to the shower. For a moment, she stood under the icy blast before adding hot to the spray.

Yeah, it was going to be that kind of a day.

After a brief visit to the HQ, where they'd had nothing new to report other than the fact that Joshua had apparently mastered the art of sarcasm thanks to Hobbes influence. To Erica's great amusement, the mercenary seemed disgruntled to have snark aimed at him. When she and Jack left, the V was holding up a coffee mug, filled with half coagulated liquid, that he'd found sitting in a box of files. Hobbes had simply shrugged and smirked, wandering off to do whatever he did, while Joshua's eyes had narrowed in a way that promised some creative and entertaining revenge.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm going to show up there one day and find one of them duct taped to the wall," Jack mused and Erica couldn't help but laugh. She'd never quite thought of that, but it was definitely amusing.

The continued to a coffee shop where they usually stopped and found their way to a booth. The usual waitress, who always flirted outrageously with both of them, seated them and proclaimed they both had to try the pie, it was decadently sinful.

They laughed and agreed and while she walked off to fetch the coffee and pie, Erica decided to bite the bullet. "Jack," she began, trying to find a way to phrase her question so it wouldn't seem so odd. "Can I ask you something that might seem a little silly?"

His eyes were amused and curious as he nodded. "Of course. You can ask me anything."

There really wasn't a neat way to ask her question, so she simply blurted it out. "So…what's your tattoo? Hobbes has a flaming sword ad wow, would Freud have a field day with that or what?"

Jack blinked at her, then laughed freely, a bright smile lighting up his face. "That's all?" he chuckled, clearly not finding the question too foolish. Then he sobered a bit and said, "A few of the guys in my unit, those of us that survived, we got inked to remember our lost friends."

He scooted his chair back a little and rested one booted ankle on the other knee, rolling up the leg of his jeans. On his calf, Jack had a rifle, propped up against a pair of boots, a helmet hung on the barrel of the gun. Below the boots, the words Fallen Brothers were inked.

So she was off the mark on her assumption that his tattoo would have some religious aspect or be a holdover from his college days. Instead, it was clearly something that touched upon the six years he'd spent in the army. He didn't talk about that time very often and she had the feeling that it was something that weighed on his soul. Though she'd never served in the military, she knew enough to be sure that a chaplain like Jack would not have carried a weapon.

But he'd learned to handle a weapon none the less. In the heat of battle, sometimes the lines blurred and you did what needed to be done to survive.

She knew that and she was pretty sure Jack did too.

He lowered the leg and returned to his normal seat as their food arrived. The pie was amazing and she was savoring a bite as Jack asked, "So, do you have any tattoos?"

"Me? No, never had the nerve to voluntarily sign up to get a needle…but who knows, maybe when all this craziness is over, those of us involved will get something," she smiled playfully. "Have to think up some sort of sign."

Jack smirked around his fork. "You know what the Roman Numeral for five is, right? A V."

He snickered and she flicked whipped cream at him. It hit his cheek, but did nothing to wipe away the smile as he swept the cream away with a finger. Which he then stuck in his mouth to lick clean.

Damn it. One erotic dream inducing mental image was just replaced by another.


	11. A Cruel Thing is War

A day that had begun with such hope ended in the specter of death and loss. Lines once drawn crumbled as the reality of their circumstances settled upon Erica Evans's shoulders, heavy like the burden of leadership Eli Cohen had passed on to her.

Standing, bruised and battered, in a small, dank basement, she declared all out war on a vastly superior enemy and the three men before her - the mercenary, the reporter, the priest -, resolved to follow her. Every one of them had to know there was little chance they'd survive the coming battle, but each was willing to give his all.

It was all anyone could ask of them.

Tomorrow, she'd try to contact John Fierro, let him know to pass on the word to the other members of the Fifth Column, but for tonight, it was just the four of them.

Kyle Hobbs, who had spent much of his life fighting for whomever paid him best, had finally found a cause worth fighting for. He'd been urging her to act for some time, but she'd been reticent. No more. The leash was off.

Chad Decker, their newest recruit, was clearly terrified, but he'd seen enough to know he had to take a stand. As Anna's favored member of the media, his access to her could prove invaluable.

Father Jack Landry, her first, most trusted ally in this fight. Like her, he'd been slow to accept the necessity of taking the fight to Anna, but she knew he'd back her play. Knew he'd take up arms and be a soldier again to defend those who couldn't or wouldn't.

Each of them had a moment of clarity that night, knowing that the conflict that had been brewing for the last several months was about to come to a head.

Considering the day she'd had, it was no surprise that, once she'd passed along her decision, she felt like falling over. Every part of her body hurt and she wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to remain steady on her feet.

"All right," she said, breaking the silence that had followed their little call to arms. "Fierro knows to contact one of us. I don't think there's much else we can do tonight, so I say we meet up again tomorrow. Someone let Sidney know and we'll try to come up with a plan of attack."

There. That sounded appropriately leader-ish and not at all like she wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. Which she just might do once she got back to her empty house. In fact, trying to avoid that had been why she'd come here tonight in the first place.

"Sounds like a plan," Hobbes said and Chad merely nodded.

Jack offered a kind smile and said, "I'll walk you out."

She nodded, grateful for the warm, supportive hand that found its way to the small of her back as they climbed the stairs.

The night air was cool on her bruised face and she took a bracing breath. In the sky, she could see the ominous outline of the Visitor's ship hovering some distance away, marring the skyline of the city.

Beside her, Jack took her hand, his presence echoing earlier pose, as they sat shocked, on a rooftop, realizing their lives had been suddenly and irrevocably changed forever.

They'd had no idea how prescient they'd been.

She shivered and she felt Jack shift, then release her hand. Turning, she opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but he wrapped his worn leather jacket around her before she got a word out.

When she'd stumbled out of her house, she'd been numb, not feeling the chill of the night air, but now her old sweatshirt didn't seem nearly warm enough. Jack's coat retained his lingering body heat and, as she pulled it close around herself, she smelled the hint of Dove soap, old books and tea that always seemed to be mixed with the scent of his skin.

It was comforting.

"Can you stay with me tonight?" she asked, hating to sound even the slightest bit weak, but this was Jack. He was the person she could break down in front of. He was the person who wouldn't judge her.

His hand returned to hers and he replied, "Of course."

She felt drained and barely noticed Jack wave to Chad, who was waiting in his own car. Erica wondered about that for a moment before realizing he must have given Jack a ride to Hobbes's place.

Reaching her SUV, she patted her pockets, searching for the keys. "I know I had them," she said absently and Jack leaned past her, opening the door. The keys dangled from the ignition and she blinked at them for a moment before turning to Jack. "You drive, okay?"

He nodded, walking her around to the passengers side and settling her in. Normally, she wouldn't have accepted the help, but tonight it was a welcome change.

The drive home was quiet and she let her eyes close, hoping her all too active brain would take the hint, but no. Random thoughts and questions continued to filter through her head.

If she hadn't called Joe on Tyler's birthday, would he still be alive?

Could she really lead a world wide rebellion?

Would her son survive the coming battle? Would he take part in it and, if her did, what side would he be on?

Actually, she was pretty sure she knew the answer to that one.

What did Anna want with them?

Would Jack get in trouble for not returning to the rectory tonight? They'd been friends for months, but she still didn't really know much about the rules priests lived by.

Except, you know, the big rule.

By this point, considering he'd gone against the Vatican's policy and spoken out against the V's, perhaps Jack figured he simply couldn't irritate them any more than he already had.

At some point, she must have drifted off, because the next thing she knew, there was a gentle hand on her arm and Jack was saying, "Erica, we're here."

She blinked and shook her head to clear the cobwebs. That wasn't one of her better ideas, as the action woke the multitude of strained muscles and bruises. If anything, she felt worse now than she had before her brief nap.

They made their way up the darkened walkway and, after a brief fumble at the door, she got the key in the lock. Knowing Jack wouldn't take offense at her lack of hospitality, she simply wandered silently into the house, leaving him to lock the door as she gingerly climbed the stairs.

It was slow going. Her muscles burned and the normally short staircase now seemed an unimaginable obstacle to surmount. Half way up, Jack joined her and she swayed, back resting partially against his chest. One of his hands gripped her waist and the other found her hand. Together, they finished the journey to her room and she more or less collapsed on the bed, on top of the covers.

Physically, she was just done.

Though she knew she'd regret it in the morning, she considered simply allowing herself to sink into oblivion then and there. Jack's coat was warm and soft, still wrapped around her, but neither her jeans or sneakers would be very comfortable to sleep in.

It seemed Jack had the same idea, because, before she could move, she felt his fingers working on the messily knotted laces. She shifted slightly, turning her head so she could see him, kneeling beside the bed and removing her shoes.

She could do it for herself, but in that moment, the fact that she didn't have to was a massive relief. Jack knew she was strong, never seemed put off by that fact, but he was willing to take care of her in this moment when she so needed someone.

Once that task was accomplished, he stood and reached for her, helping her sit up. And tossing his jacket onto the chair in the corner. She peered up at him as he paused, seemingly unsure of how to proceed.

Later, she might feel embarrassed, eh thought, but at present she had nothing to spare for that emotion. With numb fingers, she popped the button at the waist of her jeans and lowered the zipper before wriggling them down her hips. From there, Jack pulled them down her legs and they joined his coat on the chair.

He folded down the blankets and guided her under them, tucking her in. She couldn't recall the last time anyone had done that for her and she closed her eyes, leaning into his hand as he brushed the hair back from her face.

After a few minutes, he shifted and she opened her eyes. He hadn't left, but simply taken a seat on the floor beside the bed, leaning back against the mattress. That couldn't be comfortable.

This time, she startled him as her fingers brushed through his sandy hair, but he settled as she simply rested her hand there, keeping a connection between them.

The clock tick echoed loud in the silent house, as did her voice when she asked, "Stay with me?"

"I am," he replied, and it was then that she realized he meant to stay the night there, on the floor. She'd assumed he'd intended to wait until she fell asleep and then move to one of the other beds, or a couch downstairs.

She should have known he wouldn't leave her.

"Can't sleep on the floor," she murmured and let her hand drift from his hair to his shoulder, bunching in the material of his shirt and giving a weak tug. "Get up here."

He turned and his eyes were so close, startlingly blue in the shaft of moonlight that filtered in through the drapes. "I'm fine…." he began, but she cut him off.

"How'm I supposed to sleep, knowing you're on the floor?" she hoped he'd give in soon, as she really didn't have the energy to argue. Still, she couldn't bring herself to ask him to climb into her bed and hold her.

Those eyes studied her and, finally, he nodded, rising slowly , making his way around to the other side of the bed. He sat on the edge and bent to remove his boots. He unbuttoned his blue shirt and shrugged it off, but left his jeans and white t-shirt in place.

Seeing the wheels moving in his head, she flipped down the covers before he could lie on top of them. He slid into the bed beside her, on his back and a bit stiff. Clearly, he was even more unused to sharing a bed than she was, which, duh, obviously.

Still, he was here, with her because she had asked him to be.

Slowly, she inched backwards towards him and, proving once again that he understood her, Jack turned onto his side and wrapped an arm loosely around her. Thankful, she gripped his hand and sank back against him, taking comfort in the steady beat of his heart and his warm, familiar presence.

Wrapped in his arms, she finally succumbed to real sleep and the seemingly endless day finally came to a close.

* * *

When your first coherent thought of the day was 'Ow!', you could usually assume it was going to be one of those days. Erica fought her way back to consciousness through a haze of muscle aches and the sting of stitched wounds.

The second thing that registered was the fact that she wasn't alone. A split second of panic hit before she remembered asking Jack to stay and his timid capitulation to her wish.

Lying there in the early morning light, Erica reflected on the absurdity of things. Here she was, curled up in bed with a priest (he was more or less fully clothed, but still!), a man with whom she shared a mutual attraction and affection. Her son had packed his bags and moved to an alien spaceship as soon as his father died (a result of something the aliens did), because apparently he didn't consider her enough of a family for him. He preferred his girlfriend (whom Erica could admit was a lovely girl) and her secretly evil mother.

That wasn't even mentioning the perfect storm of irony that was her professional life. She was the head of the FBI's Fifth Column Task Force, assigned to hunt down the terrorists…and also head of the Fifth Column here on Earth.

You know what? It was barely 7am. Her ex-husband (who she still cared for) had died in her arms the day before. She was not ready to deal with anything just yet.

Nope. She was going to lie in bed for a while. Jack's arms were reassuring, wrapped around her and his chest was warm against her back. One of his denim clad thighs had wound up between her bare legs as they slept and she was surprised by how soft the fabric felt.

The hair on the back of her neck stirred under his slow, even breath and she allowed herself to enjoy the sensation. It was a little thing, but one she found oddly intimate. Probably because you had to be in a fairly intimate position in order to achieve the proper angle….

Usually, her thought process was more collected, but between the physical and emotional trauma of the previous day and the fact that they'd crawled into bed less than four hours ago…yeah, she was feeling a little scattered.

Deciding she'd earned a little indulgence, she shifted slightly, tucking herself closer to Jack's frame. It might be a cliché, but it was very nice to be held.

Behind her, Jack reacted to her movement, arms tightening as though assuring his sleeping mind that she wasn't leaving. He let out a sleepy, snuffling noise that made her smile and draw a breath as he buried his face in his hair.

She was about to drift back to sleep when she heard a phone ringing. It wasn't her ring tone though and she was momentarily confused. Then Jack groaned and muttered, "Sorry."

When he disentangled their bodies, she lay there mourning the loss of his embrace and warmth. Rolling onto her side, she watched him fish his cell phone out of a jacket pocket.

"Molly, hey."

Molly? Who was Molly?

"I know, I know, I should have called…Oh. You spoke to Father Travis?…Things got busy yesterday…Are you still at St. Josephine's?…Could you go back in and grab my things from my office?…Thanks…Your place? I'm with a friend…Molly Marie!…I'll call you later…Stop glaring at him…Bye."

He hung up and dropped the phone back down onto the chair before turning back to face Erica. He looked a bit sheepish as he said, "Sorry about that."

Curious, she asked, "Who's Molly?"

Best build up to the harder questions, like why was Molly taking his things to her place? Erica knew she had no real grounds for jealousy, but there it was, The Green Eyed Monster, rearing its ugly head.

"My niece," Jack replied fondly, slaying the monster without even realizing he'd done so. "We meet to go for a run at 6 and I wasn't there, so she dropped by the rectory to check up on me. I wasn't there, so she called."

That made sense. She nodded and worried her lip for a moment before asking, "And…the other stuff?"

Jack let out a sigh and dropped his head and she was struck by the sight of him, so achingly human and present in a sleep rumpled t-shirt and jeans, barefoot, standing in the warm golden sunlight that filtered in through the drapes.

She wanted to tell him to forget everything else and climb back into bed with her. Just for a while, they could pretend their crazy lives didn't exist. Just for a while they could take comfort in each other as though they were unaware of the impending war.

But he was who he was. A priest. Sure, he'd slept beside her, held her through the night, but that was one thing and what she wished they could do was another thing all together.

It didn't matter that she was pretty sure he shared her wish.

"Before I saw the news about the hostage situation, I'd packed because…" He paused to take a deep breath and scrub a hand over his face before looking up and meeting her eyes. "I received word yesterday morning that I'd been laicized. Travis gave me till the end of the week to be out of the rectory, but I figured why prolong things….."

His voice broke a little and it was clear that he was trying to pretend like he was all right with this turn of events. She knew better.

"Oh, Jack," she said, kicking her legs free of the comforter - Wow, that bruise on her knee was turning out to bee pretty impressive -, she rose from the bed and circled around to pull him into a hug. One hand cupping the back of his neck, she let her cheek rest on his shoulder as she asked, "Are you okay?"

Careful so as not to aggravate any of her injuries, he returned the embrace and let his cheek rest against her head. "I was fairly well prepared for it," he said slowly. "They'd made the church's position clear and I defied orders, so I knew there'd be consequences."

"But are you okay?" He'd given an answer, but it had been impersonal. She wanted to know how he was feeling.

"A little bit at a loss, but it's not as bad as I thought it would be," he replied, pulling back enough to look at her. "I still have my faith and I'm doing something that I know is right, so I feel a sense of purpose."

Erica had the feeling he wasn't really ready to discuss his feelings about being laicized just yet - heck, he probably wouldn't have mentioned it if his niece hadn't called -, so she didn't push him on it any more. "We need you," she assured him, biting her lips to keep from saying I need you.

He still knew what she meant. "It's not like I never thought about leaving the church," he mused, reaching up to brush her hair off her face and peer at the stitched gash on her right cheekbone. "After Iraq, I never stopped questioning myself. It's why I was reluctant to get involved with the rebellion initially. I wanted to avoid conflict, and then there was…."

His voice trailed off an she felt the rough pads of his fingers graze her skin, gently probing the wound. It was a strange sensation, both pleasant and a little painful, like a deep tissue massage, but he was barely using any pressure. "And then there was what?"

She couldn't help but ask that question.

"Temptation," he replied softly, cheeks tingeing pink as he looked away, clearly bashful about admitting that.

This was so not the time to be doing this. She was emotionally thrown by Joe's death and Tyler's abandonment and Jack was dealing with being stripped of his priesthood. Not exactly a stable time for either of them. But they were living in a world where there might not be a tomorrow for either of them.

It was nice to feel needed, wanted. She was sure he agreed. Turning her head, she turned her cheek to rest the side of her face in his palm and he gently touched his brow to hers, careful of her various cuts and bruises.

At that moment, she didn't give a damn about her aches and pains, but her body was making something else very clear. Though she really didn't want to say anything, she had no choice. "Jack," she said softly, taking a breath as his nose brushed hers in the softest way. "I hate to say this, but…I really have to use the bathroom."

She felt his smile bloom and the chuckle rumble through his chest. "Me too," he admitted, smiling as he released her somewhat reluctantly. "I think we were both too tired to worry about that last night."

Nodding, she waved her hand. "You can use the one off the hall, while I use mine…but come back after. Four hours of sleep is nowhere near enough."

She knew that might have been a bit babbly, but it seemed to get her point across.

After finishing in the bathroom, she looked at he reflection and cringed. The bruises had really bloomed over night, littering her face in patches of blues, purples and reds. There was still some blood crusted around her right nostril and her unbruised skin was ghostly pale. It always amazed her how her hair could become such a rats nest, even when she wasn't tossing and turning.

Yeah, she wasn't exactly at her best and, after splashing water on her face, brushing her teeth and tugging a brush through her hair, she decided it was as good as it was going to get. She shucked her sweatshirt, which was feeling hot and icky from being worn to bed. A knee length, soft cotton tank style nightgown was hanging on the back of the door and, after using some baby wipes to feel cleaner, she slid it on.

Opening the bathroom door, she found Jack had already made his way back from the other bathroom. He was sitting on the far edge of the bed, slightly hunched over with his elbows on his knees. His white t-shirt was pulled tight across his broad shoulders and hit had bunched up slightly, revealing a strip of lightly tanned skin above the waist of his jeans.

The jeans. She wished she had something else to give him to wear. Offering him a pair of Tyler's sweatpants….no, that would be all kinds of weird and wrong.

Hell, he probably had on boxers but was just too shy to ditch the heavy denim. She'd have to broach the subject.

When she settled down on her side of the bed, he turned to face her, eyes tracking to the newly revealed bruises on her arms. Before she lost her nerve, she said, "It can't be comfortable sleeping in those jeans. We're both adults. You can take them off."

Whatever he'd been expecting her to say, that had not been it. His eyes popped wide and he looked so startled that she quickly added, "You don't have too! I was just thinking that I hate sleeping in jeans, but if you're okay…."

He nodded a little and said, "No, you're right. I just…I'll do that."

Standing, he stepped toward the chair, hands going to his waist. He turned, peering at her over his shoulder and she could see he'd gone pink again. Then she realized she was sitting there, staring at him as he prepared to take his pants off. That was clearly unnerving him.

"Sorry," she said, averting her eyes. She hadn't meant to stare…it had just seemed to happen.

The sound of the zipper was loud in the quiet room and she heard the denim rustle, then his footsteps back to the bed, which dipped as he sat on the other side.

She was startled by the gentle fingers ghosting across her shoulder and down her arm. She turned to meet his concerned gaze. "We really should ice some of these bruises," he said, thumb brushing the unblemished crook of her elbow and she shivered, a combination of sensation and the thought of ice.

"Later," she agreed, scooting down to lie facing him and he did the same, pulling the sheet and comforter up over them.

It should have been strange, sharing a bed with him now that she was feeling more centered and less desperate to know he was close by, but it wasn't. Sure, there was a little awkwardness, but that was mostly due to the priest issue. Not that it applied anymore…or did it? She really didn't know how that worked.

Having Jack with her seemed right. In a world of complexity, it was a simple truth. They'd been inextricably linked since that first night on a cold rooftop, before they'd even know each other, they'd had a connection. She didn't know how she'd have managed if he hadn't shown up outside her office after hearing the V's were being allowed to visit Earth, deciding he couldn't avoid the fight.

It had only been a few months ago and yet it seemed like ages had passed.

If you counted time in terms of major life events, she supposed ages had passed.

Her expression must have mirrored her less than happy thoughts, because Jack chose to gather her in his arms and stroke her back soothingly. She grasped his shoulders, holding him tight and letting her legs tangle with his.

In the early morning light, there was a little peace for each of them, before reality would set in again.


	12. That's not holly!

Who the hell hung mistletoe in a store? That was just wrong and completely unfair. How was one supposed to avoid the insidious little plant if one wasn't expecting to find it?

And it was pretty much impossible to pretend you hadn't seen it (once you were standing beneath the sprig) when you were being stared at expectantly by a trio of tutu wearing six year olds.

After another barely productive meeting with Hobbes, FBI Agent Erica Evans and Father Jack Landry had left the less than pleasant Fifth Colum HQ (though they had to admit, the place was a lot cleaner than it had been. From the lingering smell of the cleaning product, Hobbes was apparently fond of Comet), stepping out into the New York Winter. A light snow fall had begun, not enough to accumulate on the subway warmed streets, but enough to make things feel…Christmassy.

Strolling along the sidewalk, Jack had offered his arm and she accepted. Out on the street, they were just two random people amidst the masses and, since Jack wasn't wearing his collar, Erica felt it wasn't improper. No one would give them a second glance.

They kept the conversation light, knowing anyone could overhear them and, when Erica pointed to a sign advertising Hot Chocolate, they entered a small shop. The warming drink seemed a wonderful idea on the chilly evening.

Stepping inside, they found it to be one of those places trying to be an old style mom and pop store. Candy, small nick knacks and basic groceries were on one side of the space, but the busiest area was the long ice cream counter where, in the cold weather, they served hot drinks and cookies.

Moving towards the counter, they passed under a small arch, which was when a little voice called out, "Oh! You're under the mistletoe! You have to kiss!"

Erica was startled and glanced up.

Sure enough, a festive sprig of mistletoe was hovering over Jack's head. Meeting the priest's gaze, she smiled fondly as she watched a blush creep up from his neck to spread over his cheeks.

"Kiss!" the voice chirped again and both resistance members turned to look for the source. Three little girls in ballet tutus were sitting on stools by the counter, cocoa and cookies before them. Two were giggling as they watched expectantly and the spokes-child continued, nodding sagely, "Daddy says mistletoe is magic and when he kisses Mommy under it Santa's reindeer get stronger!"

Okay, that was more than a little adorable. The mother inside her couldn't bring herself to disappoint those little faces. Looking at Jack, she knew her own cheeks flushed as she asked, "For the reindeer?"

"Can't have weak reindeer," he murmured in agreement and shifted his stance a little awkwardly, as though suddenly unsure what to do with his arms.

Leaning towards him, Erica placed a hand on his cheek met his lips halfway in a fairly quick, chaste kiss. His lips, she was surprised to find, were soft and tasted faintly of Chapstick and she had felt the faint brush of nearly invisible blond stubble on his jaw. Up close, the scent of old books, tea and Dove soap that seemed to linger on Jack's skin and clothes was stronger but no less pleasant.

They stood close, sharing each others air for seconds after they broke the kiss, eyes locked and tension crackling. She remembered meeting his eyes across the crowded warehouse on the night they met. There had been a spark of something and she was certain he'd felt it as well. It wasn't until later, when she'd found out what his job was that she'd understood why he'd seemed so startled with himself for taking her hand.

Instant chemistry combined with a bond of trust and friendship was not something easily denied. Shaking themselves, they stepped back and Erica saw the little girls grinning before they turned back to their cocoa.

Jack moved toward the counter, ordering their hot chocolate and Erica couldn't help but blush as she thought, I'm feeling plenty warm already. Do they have ice water?

Like fighting aliens for the continued survival of the human race wasn't bad enough, she had to go and fall for a man she couldn't be with.

Her mother had always said Erica could never do things the easy way.

As Jack smiled and handed her the cup of cocoa, she grinned back, knowing their relationship might not be the simplest, most easily defined one ever, but she wouldn't trade it for anything.


	13. From Another Point of View

They said times of hardship were when a man could find the true measure of his metal. Joe Evans liked to believe he was a brave person, one who would stand up for his family and his beliefs, but he was also lived in America. He had a decent job. What the heck was there for him to rebel against? He'd never felt the need or desire to imagine becoming involved in any sort of resistance movement.

Sure, maybe some people would consider him a little boring, but he was happy.

Then the aliens came. At first, he had no real issue with them, but then things started getting strange. The sky turned red, the news started reporting on strange disappearances, his ex-wife, an FBI agent, was clearly uncomfortable with the V's, even though Tyler was living on one of the ships…but still, whatever was going on didn't really seem to effect him too much.

Until a few days ago, when Tyler had shown up at his door, worried that Anna, the V leader, would try to come after him. Joe had been dumbfounded, but Tyler had been insistent and even got his mother on the phone to back him up when he told Joe to pack a bag, they had to go.

He had gone with Tyler into the city and discovered there was far more going on than he had known. Apparently, there was a growing movement that was aware of the V's true, malicious intentions for humanity and they were banding together to stop it. Some V's had even joined this rebel movement, called The Fifth Colum, which the talking heads on the news continued to call a terrorist organization.

But Joe learned different. Erica had explained what she could before heading off to work to keep her cover. It all seemed so fantastic and out of his comfort zone, so Joe chose to hang back and observe the more practiced rebels at work.

The building The Fifth Colum was headquartered in was abandoned and rundown, quite unremarkable on the outside. It was large and had many smaller rooms, which were being used as sleeping quarters, and a large space, perhaps a factory floor, had been converted into the main room, with a meeting/planning space (usually co-opted by a few select members of the movement, Erica included), small medical area and even a few couches.

It was like some strange, post-apocalyptic sanctuary for survivors of a great disaster…which would be an accurate analogy, except for the fact the majority of the Earth's population had no idea an apocalypse had begun.

Okay, no more watching alien invasion movies on the tv. Everyone else seemed to find them ironic. He only watched because he was going stir crazy.

Most of the people that wandered in and out of the building kept to themselves and the others, like Joe, who were staying there for protection were generally shell shocked and twitchy. It was hard to get to know anyone in that atmosphere, but he hoped to talk with Ty and Erica later that night, cause he was getting antsy after a few days. He wanted something to do. He could help.

Tyler and his girlfriend, Lisa, who was a V herself, were in and out of the HQ, themselves busy trying to spy on Anna and discretely pass along disinformation. When Joe had last seen the pair of them, they had been very cozy, but there seemed to be something of a rift in their relationship now. Ty said it was nothing, but Joe knew better.

Joshua, a pleasant young man, was the only V who spent all his time with the resistance, as he was persona non grata among his own kind since his rebel allegiance had become common knowledge. He was a doctor and seemed to come in handy when people stumbled in, injured in scuffles with V soldiers. More than anyone, he seemed willing to patiently explain the day to day workings of their odd little group. Because he spent time in Joshua's company, Joe noticed Lisa lingering by the medic.

But since Tyler didn't seem to mind, Joe thought maybe it was because they were the only V's in HQ and they seemed to share some history. At least they were friendly, in an odd, slightly stiff way.

Someone not so friendly was Kyle Hobbes, an honest to God terrorist, was another fixture in the dingy building the Fifth Column based itself out of. That had been a shock, but Erica had assured him that the man was on their side and they needed his expertise. Joe wondered exactly what he was getting himself into, when a terrorist became essential personnel.

It was early evening when a new arrival appeared. Someone new to Joe that is, 'cause several other people looked up and greeted the man, who paused to speak with each of them. In jeans and a white button down shirt, quick to offer anyone a gentle smile, the blond man seemed to be Hobbes's opposite, but he approached the terrorist with a level of comfort Joe hadn't seen anyone but Erica express.

Hobbes actually smiled a little as he asked the man, "Where have you been?"

The blond man touched his arm. "I was giving this place a bit of a wide berth until I was sure the R6 wouldn't be working anymore."

Nodding over to where Joshua was bandaging a woman's hand, Hobbes said, "Thought he said it only took 24 hours."

"Just being safe, plus I was visiting my niece. I'm going to bring her by tomorrow," the blond said. "I filled her in on some of the truth and she looked at me like I was a rube. She actually said, 'Duh, Uncle Jack. I grew up watching the X-Files. Trust No One, remember.'"

Hobbes actually snorted. "Smart girl. You sure you're related to her?"

Jack shot him a vaguely amused look. "Nice. So, what's new here?"

As the terrorist led Jack over to his territory, marked with plans and boards covered with papers, Joe snagged Joshua's arm as the younger man passed by, Joe nodded towards the new arrival and asked, "Who's that?"

The doctor glanced over and replied. "Jack."

Okay, so the V's weren't the chattiest people ever. "I've never seen him here before."

"He and Erica are the two senior, surviving human members of this branch of the Fifth Column," Joshua followed up, then continued off on his way.

That little tidbit of information did nothing to ease Joe's nerves over the whole résistance fighting thing.

While Joe mulled the thought over, Erica entered through the same door Jack had. Her eyes scanned the room quickly but stopped when they hit the blond man. The smile that crossed her face was one Joe recognized from the happier times of their relationship.

"Hey." He heard her voice carry across the room as she crossed to Jack and Hobbes, hand lighting on Jack's arm when she reached them. Whatever else they said was spoken in voices too low for Joe to hear, but he could see the glances between the two of them and the easy way they invaded each others space.

Though they hadn't parted on the best of terms, Joe didn't begrudge his ex-wife finding someone. Hell, with all this craziness, it was probably good to have someone to share…everything with.

Over by the planning station, Hobbes was laughing about something while both blondes were looking vaguely put out. The terrorist rolled his eyes in a way that was visible from across the room and turned back towards the small screen that constantly streamed a news station.

Erica shook her head, dim light catching her hair as she turned to speak with Jack. Standing there together, Joe was struck by the way they moved together, the private smiles and the small touches. Everything was chaste and innocent, but there was an underlying…connection between them.

She smiled when she caught Joe's eye, a normal, friendly smile, not the one Jack had received. When he waved, she led the way over and asked, "How are you doing, Joe?"

He gave her a look. "I'd be better if I had something to do."

"We'll try to find something for you to do," she assured him, then said, "Joe, this is Jack Landry. Jack, Joe Evans."

"Nice to meet you." To Jack's credit, he seemed to mean that and smiled as they shook hands.

"Likewise," Joe replied, then dug around for something to say. He'd never been great at small talk. "So, do you two work together?"

Erica smiled and looked down while Jack simply shook his head. "No, no, I'm a priest."

Huh.

That was…unexpected.

But Joe gave himself a mental shake. After all, he was pretty sure some priests could marry. Maybe he was one of those. Otherwise, whatever Erica and Jack had between them way far more complicated than he'd even begin to ponder.

"How'd you get involved in all of this?"

It was a fair question, one that caused the two blonds to exchange a look. "That's a long story."

"I've got time," Joe said and he really did. The story of how his ex and a priest fell in together and possibly fell for each other was just one he had to hear.


	14. Temptation

They'd been up late, discussing Fifth Column strategies in Erica's living room (Tyler was spending the night at Brandon's) and trying to relax a little. Too much stress was unhealthy and, as members of a hunted resistance cell, Erica Evans and Jack Landry carried more than their fair share of stress. Even they needed to unwind occasionally.

Around 9 PM, Eric had broken out the brandy, pouring them each a generous glass. Jack had nearly balked, knowing he had to drive home, but she just smiled and offered, "I have a guest room."

… and lead me not into temptation…Oh, what the hell….

That had been two hours and several drinks earlier. Both of them leaned back into the couch cushions, mellow and sleepy. Erica had her legs pulled up under herself, but stretched as the muscles protested with a sharp cramp.

Jack caught the limb as it hovered over his legs and smiled, pressing his fingers into the muscle, bared by her knee length lounge pants. He knew he really shouldn't let himself enjoy the feel of her silky skin, but he was only human damn it.

Erica drew in a small breath as he kneaded her flesh, working out the kink in her calf, then running his fingers down her shin, tracing little whorling patterns around the ankle before working the arch of her foot.

He hit a particularly sensitive point and she let out a little moan, one hand dropping from the back of the couch to grasp his bicep.

They both froze, caught between the knowledge of who they were and how they felt.

Neither of them knew exactly how to handle it, but they figured it was best to enjoy each others company in what time they had.

After all, one never knew when an alien race might appear to unleash their malicious plans for the human race.

Oh, wait, that already happened.


	15. The Future

In the end, the human faction of the Fifth Column had little to do with Anna's defeat. Nearly a year after turning the sky red, the V's had unleashed a series of EMP bursts around the globe, crippling the multitude of technologies humanity had become dependant upon over the course of the 20th Century. The world had been totally unprepared for an electromagnetic pulse attack, though, ironically, the countries considered Third World fared far better than others.

The detonation of dozens of nuclear bombs in the atmosphere fired circuitry, microchips and the heart of all electronic devices. Since microchips control vehicles, trains, and airplanes, most became inoperable. The majority of cities rapidly declined into chaos and survival became priority. During that first year, many died from starvation or disease, and countless numbers froze during the winter.

The military was largely protected and prepared, but the government had done virtually nothing to address the effects of such an attack on the civilian sector. Without that infrastructure, the military found it difficult to operate as well. The EMP attack took down power grids, already fragile anyway, and telecommunications networks, financial networks, air traffic controls and many other things. Without that infrastructure, it was nearly impossible to re-establish the power network. The power network was needed to keep telecommunications going for more than a few hours. The financial network was needed to continue to operate to maintain the economy, transportation systems, roads, street lights, control systems, were needed just to get people to the failed power, telecommunication and other systems….

In short, a world full of modern people were tossed back into the technological equivalent of the 1800's, but with several times the population to deal with and a lot less access to agricultural areas. Food supplies were be greatly diminished by the lack of transportation, telecommunication, power for refrigeration and so is soon became clear that life would be far more primitive, because, back in the 1800s, Americans had food from their own farms and police who rode on people on Earth struggled to survive, factions aboard the ships continued to grow under the discrete but steady guidance of Lisa. A year after the EMP, Anna discovered her daughter's betrayal and had her dragged into her office to face her punishment.

In cities around the world, the decimated population looked skyward, watching as the events aboard the New York mothership were broadcast on the bottom panels of every vessel. Anna wanted the remaining members of the human race to see what happened to those who would defy her.

Anna had stood over her daughter, who, though bloodied and beaten, refused to cry or beg for mercy. Lisa's blue eyes had widened in fear as her mother raised a blade above her, prepared to bring the sharp edge down and end her life.

It never happened.

Anna had jerked and the knife had fallen from her suddenly slack hand. A deep red stain began to spread across the chest of her cream colored silk shift. Letting out a gurgle, she staggered a step then collapsed, twitching on the deck. Her security forces were stunned into silence, unsure how to react to the loss of a queen.

Looking up, Lisa met Joshua's startled expression. It had taken months for him to even begin shaking off the brainwashing technique her mother had used on him and Lisa had been unsure how much of the original Joshua was still intact. Clearly, more than anyone had known, as he had just plunged a blade through Anna's heart.

Things had happened very quickly after that. Lisa had assumed command of the fleet and sent the majority of the ships away, under the command of Ryan, who had come back to his senses upon Anna's demise. She remained, Joshua by her side, with two ships, intent on helping humanity heal from the damage wrought by her mother.

Earth was never going to be the same as it once was, but, slowly, things were improving. New York City, once a hub of American economy, was home to a small population of hearty souls whom had chosen to remain in the city instead of fleeing to more rural areas and a small influx of newcomers who had arrived once the rioting and roaming gangs had died down.

With no more FBI, CIA, Homeland Security or NYPD to speak of, most remaining law enforcement personnel had unified under the banner of NYPD, knowing the name still meant something in spirit, if not reality. Erica Evans had survived V's and then the insanity of her fellow humans and had become one of the precinct commanders of the re-established NYPD.

Her son Tyler was on a patrol out in Queens.

It had been six years since the V's arrived and three since most of the ships had left. Erica still saw Lisa and Joshua at meetings, but most of the time her attentions were focused elsewhere.

On a rare lunch break, Erica walked into Central Park, now converted into fields for growing crops. Occasionally, someone would look up and give her a wave. She returned the greetings, but didn't stray from her course.

Entering the area designated for wheat, she grinned, catching a glimpse of the two people she was looking for. Jack Landry was crouched at the base of some crops, doing something with a small test kit. A few feet from him, a toddler sat in a small pen on the grass.

"Hey, you two," Erica called out, drawing the gaze of four cornflower blue eyes.

Jack smiled, rising to his feet and scooping G.G. (short for Georgia) out of her playpen. The little girl bounced happily and crowed, "Mama!"

Crossing the few remaining feet between them, Erica kissed each of them and smiled. "How's everything going here?"

"We're going to have a good season," he replied, eyes darting to the crops with a satisfied look. He'd grown up on a farm and the skills he'd learned there had come in very handy when it came time to plant crops in the park.

She'd never thought of life in terms of growing seasons and food supply, but that was the world she found herself living in. A world that had survived an alien invasion, where people had banded together with a simple common goal. To live, to see that humans, as a species, didn't die out.

Still, even in a world still reeling from chaos, she had found a measure of peace and happiness.


	16. Bless Me Father

Bless me Father, for I have sinned.

It has been 7 days since my last confession and these are my sins

He'd said these words so many times over the years, it was as though they were engrained into his soul. In the past, confession had been a relief, allowing him to unburden himself of some of his internal strife. It wasn't a cure all, he was a smart enough man to know that, but he did believe that God was benevolent and forgiving.

Jack knew priests were far more fallible and wont to disapproval.

After returning from Iraq, he'd made his confession to Father Travis, and the man had not looked at him the same since. The older man judged him for his actions, for making the choice to take a life in order to save another, something he, as a chaplain, was not supposed to do.

Now, he knew there was no way he could truly receive the sacrament of penance. He knew he had sinned. A priest who is in a state of mortal sin should seek to confess as soon as possible and refrain from celebrating the sacraments until he has done so. At least, according to the word, if not the spirit of his faith, and that only compounded things. To celebrate Mass or receive Communion while in a state of mortal sin is to commit a sacrilege.

He was torn between the life he knew and the path he knew he should follow. The vast majority of his adult life, he had dedicated to the service of God and had done his best to act in accordance with His wishes…though, sometimes, Jack felt the Church office did not act in the intended spirit of their faith. Still, despite his occasional questions of policy, he'd known no other life for a very long time. Even as a soldier, he'd been a priest, the padre, a friend, but held apart, even when not wearing the white collar of his office.

But he was still just a man, subject to the same requirements of sanctity and state of grace as every other Catholic. And for a man of faith, he could feel the weight of his sins sitting on his shoulders.

Fear, worry, anger, guilt, bitterness, hate, stubbornness - all sins of mental attitude. Lying, criticism, cursing, arguing - sins of the tongue. And those were just the small things.

Murder. Sure, Anna's army of eggs were about to hatch, hunt them down and kill them, but taking any life was a mark on a person's soul. Self defense or defending another might excuse some of the guilt, but it was still a moral burden.

Disobedience. He couldn't bite his tongue any longer, couldn't turn a blind eye to the danger looming above them all. Father Travis had warned him, told him to toe the line, only spout church rhetoric, but he'd had to speak from his heart. Had to say and do things he knew would not be looked kindly upon by his superiors.

Revenge. Georgie. Alex. Joshua. Val. Fifth column members he'd never met. There had already been so many deaths. He knew he shouldn't, but he wanted to strike back, blood for blood, en eye for an eye. He generally wasn't an Old Testament kind of guy, but he could understand its merits.

Lust. Since meeting Erica, that first glance across the crowded warehouse, he'd mentally strayed down that path more often than he could recall. Which had surprised him, because he was normally very good when it came to impulse control. That sort of train of though could only lead to bad places…good places, really, but places his vows would not allow him to go.

As he got to know her, feelings grew deeper, became far more real, far harder to ignore than simple physical yearnings. In some ways, the emotional connection was a double edged sword. He felt truly blessed to connect with someone like that, to feel warmth and comfort from her presence alone. But it also made denying the existence of such feelings much, much harder.

For these and all the sins of my past life, especially for my sins of hate I am truly sorry.

Because, for the most part, he wasn't sorry for these sins. He couldn't be. They were living in a very dangerous and complex world, carefully balanced and all these things that some would damn him for were done with either good intentions or because they were impossible to deny.

Jack opened his eyes, raised his bowed head and looked around his Spartan room. A large rucksack sat open on the bed and a Bible lay on the desk, a letter beside it. Pushing himself up from the chair, he picked up the fine, linen paper again and stared down at the words.

….been informed of your public disagreement regarding Church doctrine…speaking against the directed message of the Church…allegations of conduct unbecoming an ordained officiate…dismissed from the clerical state, laicized…forbidden to exercise ministerial functions, but indelible character is held to remain on your soul, as is sung at ordination, "You are a priest forever, like Melchizedek of old"…Go with God…

He had never regretted becoming a priest. He always felt it was his calling and even when there had been dissent he'd never felt trapped. It was the life he had chosen and now it had been stripped away, leaving him vulnerable and bare in a way that was entirely unfamiliar.

It was terrifying, but cathartic at the same time. Not to say he thought everything in life was predestined or that man had no free will, but he thought that certain events happened and how you reacted to such occurrences shaped who you were and who you would become. He accepted that, when these events happened, he had to make tough choices and adapt.

He'd made his first such decision at 17, when he had chosen BC over UMinn. Then there was the choice of grad school or the seminary. Serve at home or abroad. Then the V's…hold his tongue and toe the line or do what he felt was right. Following his instincts had served him fairly well thus far, so that was what he had done…which led him to the present.

And he was going to choose not to allow this circumstance to ruin his life. If it was His will that Jack no longer serve in the priesthood, then that was that. How Jack chose to live his life now was up to him.

Folding the letter, he tucked it into his Bible and tossed the book into his bag, shouldering it and stepping out of the room without looking back. Father Travis had made himself scarce, clearly not wanting to have to face Jack, as he was obviously the one who had made a call to the archdiocese.

Jack didn't hold any anger in his heart toward the older man. It wouldn't serve any purpose and he knew the priest was just doing what he felt was right.

And really, wasn't that the only true way to live?

He looked up at the church as he walked down the front steps, the steeple rising above, a symbol of the a past. The future…well, he'd just have to wait and see how things unfolded.

Bless me Father, for I will sin.


End file.
